❅❅❅
SINCE learning that Rosemary’s memorial stone would be erected in her hometown, I tried speaking to her soul that lay dormant within me. Yes, I understood the peculiarity of speaking to my past self better than anyone. Still, I had such mixed feelings that I couldn’t stop myself from calling out to her.
Rosemary, if you were alive right now, what would you think?
Based on my memories of my previous life, I was undeniably Rosemary. I thought I understood her better than anyone else and believed her desires to be my own. Nevertheless, there were many things I didn’t understand. Even if I inherited Rosemary’s soul, we were different people. This had been at the forefront of my consciousness lately, and I knew exactly why.
“It’s because of Albert…” I murmured to myself.
I sighed while gazing at the sunset outside my window. Albert proposed to me, and soon afterward, he confessed his feelings for me. He continued expressing his love for me in between duties at work. I had no idea how to respond. One corner of my heart quivered with delight. How could such a persistent shower of affection not fill my chest with giddiness? I even toyed with the idea of accepting his advances.
Another thought plagued me at the same time. What if his feelings were for Rosemary, not me? When this idea occurred to me, sadness and suspicion replaced my happiness. As a result, I couldn’t reciprocate his feelings.
It was absurd for Albert to even have feelings for me in the first place. He was more than ten years my senior, the high commander of the chivalric order, and a knight who’d sworn loyalty to Rosemary. Despite my new position as a handmaid for the chivalric order, I was merely a baron’s daughter from the countryside. Recently, Albert obtained the rank of a viscount, becoming a suitable partner for someone like Rosemary.
Yes, Rosemary. Not me.
“Ugh, I’m sick of this…”
What could be hollower than feeling jealous of myself? My dead self, no less. That’s right—I was jealous of Rosemary. Though I never would have met Albert without her memories, I envied her very existence.
“I’m no different from the other handmaids who are jealous of me, am I…?”
Albert and Reynaldo stayed by my side because I was Rosemary’s reincarnation, not because I was Mary. I could do nothing to change or reverse this fact. Even so, I thought I was content with the situation. After all, I was Rosemary, and her memories were mine. Yet, when I considered Albert having feelings for Rosemary and not me, I couldn’t bear the pain. Intellectually, I understood that Rosemary and I were one, but my heart had different thoughts on the matter.
Agonizing about this isn’t going to get me anywhere.
After sighing for the umpteenth time, I looked around my room. Tomorrow, I would head to the territory formerly known as Hubert with Albert. The day after tomorrow, the ceremony to place Rosemary’s casket in her new grave would happen. I’d been preparing for our departure.
The first ceremony to be held in the newly renamed McClain region would be in honor of the deceased. As such, it wouldn’t be a political event. Only friends and relatives would gather to oversee Rosemary’s entombment and offer her their prayers.
I couldn’t make sense of what was going through my mind. In all likelihood, no one else had ever experienced what I was feeling.
Of all things, I’ll be seeing my own coffin.
“Rosemary,” I addressed her aloud. “How do you feel right now?”
I couldn’t stop myself from asking the question. How did she feel about Albert professing his love to me? Or about being buried in the land she’d loved as a child? And finally, about me—her reincarnation—offering my prayers to her memorial?
“I’m happy,” I admitted. “After all this time, I’ll be able to see the place where you grew up.”
Rosemary’s memories of Hubert always seemed wonderful. Sure, her studies and training had been difficult. Likewise, her father was cold to her. Yet, all that aside, spending time with her beloved brother and childhood friend had filled her with joy.
The warmth of Hubert had brought her great comfort.
Since I’d only viewed Rosemary’s homeland through memory, the idea of seeing it firsthand put a huge smile on my face. I didn’t know if this joy was Rosemary’s or my own.
Ever since I’d regained Rosemary’s memories, our consciousnesses mixed together from time to time. This had occurred when I condemned King Grey, putting a stop to Albert and Reynaldo’s vengeance. Back then, Rosemary had taken full control of my actions.
Since then, our consciousnesses had stopped mixing. It was hard to describe what I’d felt back then. I didn’t fully understand it myself. Similarly, I didn’t know if my feelings for Albert belonged to Rosemary or me. By that same logic, did Albert love me or Rosemary? I didn’t know.
Over and over again, I asked myself questions that I had no hope of answering.
✦ ✦ ✦
❅❅❅
REYNALDO hadn’t prayed at Rosemary’s memorial in some time. Though he tried to decorate her casket with fresh flowers every day, he hadn’t replaced them since his last visit. As a result, they’d withered. He couldn’t remember ever being away from her resting place for this long.
“I’m home, Rosemary,” Reynaldo whispered to her, placing his hand on his beloved sister’s casket.
After replacing the flowers, he touched the engraving on the coffin, which spelled out the name Rosemary Hubert and the date of her death. Reynaldo himself had procured this casket many years ago.
I never thought I’d be able to return you to Hubert.
Reynaldo smiled drolly. Despite planning his vengeance for twenty years, this had never been part of it. When Mary made this request, Reynaldo was stunned. He’d lived his life with Rosemary constantly on his mind, yet even so, this idea had never occurred to him. Vengeance had been his single desire for so long, but she hadn’t felt the same way.
“I’m sorry for making you rest in such a gloomy place for so long,” Reynaldo said. “You wanted to go home, didn’t you…? You must be rolling your eyes at my lack of tact. Still, I can finally grant your wish.”
Mary’s proposed vengeance had been to clear Rosemary’s name and have her remains returned to her homeland. She hadn’t wished for anything else.
At the same time, Rosemary harbored one regret: having stolen Reynaldo’s future. When he learned this, regret overcame him as well. He felt foolish and ashamed for being blind to any of Rosemary’s desires. He even forced Albert to walk down the path of vengeance with him.
Reynaldo hadn’t expected to ever regret his decisions. He loathed everyone who’d humiliated Rosemary and played a part in her death. So much so that he would have gladly cut them all to pieces. Like a curse, that hatred lingered inside him. If he had the chance to kill King Grey, he would do so with pleasure. And, if possible, he would gleefully watch the still-missing Queen Tia be hanged.
And yet, there was something Reynaldo wanted even more than that. Kneeling, he pressed his lips against the cold, stone coffin.
“If you had been by my side, Rosemary, I wouldn’t have wanted anything else.”
Why had he poured so much passion and hatred into vengeance? Possibly because he hadn’t known where to direct his feelings for Rosemary.
Once he removed his lips from the casket, Reynaldo stood, having steeled himself. He returned to Rose to deliver Rosemary to her homeland. After exiting the mausoleum, he checked if the preparations for his journey had run into any delays. He’d special-ordered a carriage to move Rosemary’s coffin. Despite its plain appearance, the vehicle—painted entirely black—was made of high-quality materials.
He hadn’t considered carrying Rosemary’s casket out in the open. This carriage had a wider roof than the vehicles used to transport nobles. After giving orders to a few servants, Reynaldo helped them carry the coffin to the carriage ever so carefully.
With that done, he departed for the land once known as Hubert. He was bringing a handful of servants and guards with him, as the journey to deliver Rosemary’s remains would be a lengthy one.